Blarg
by KellySquared
Summary: In which Voldemort can't die, no matter what happens to him. The most random and stupid Harry Potter fic you will ever read. Contains references to many other things we like. Guaranteed to cause massive loss of brain cells, or your money back!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Ello, poppet! So yes, this is the third time that we have reposted this story, as everyone refuses to read it. Hopefully, if we update this a bit, it'll stay near the top of the list so people will actually know it exists._

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing from _Harry Potter, Monty Python's Flying Circus, _or _Yu-Gi-Oh!: The Abridged Series._

Chapter 1

It was a beautiful morning in some city somewhere in the world. The sun had just begun to peek up above the horizon, piercing the crisp, spring air with dazzling streaks of light that blinded all who gazed up at them. Large, white, puffy clouds caught the light and reflected it back into the sky that turned it into a myriad of marvelous colors. Trees stretched in the early morning glare, rousing birds from their peaceful slumber. A soft breeze stirred the leaves on outstretched branches, carrying smells from the city into the surrounding park. Smells of fresh coffee being brewed and bakeries baking wafted throughout. People in cars sighed heavily as the wonderful smells greeted their noses, and then coughed when their cars' exhaust blew in their open windows. Litter danced across the street and tried to impress working citizens with their pirouettes. Somewhere a power drill rose and began its arduous work of digging through cement. Another answered it from the other side of the city, and the air hummed with its wonderful noise. Ah, the oh so peacefulness of urban life.

If you are still reading this elaborate description on my interpretation of cities, then I can safely say that I am amazed. I do believe it was getting a bit boring.

Sigh. I never wanted to be a writer anyways. I wanted to be a mime! Combing the city and stalking individuals! Being trapped in imaginary boxes and going down nonexistent elevators and—

Ouch! Alright, alright! I'm going! Just crush my dreams will you, you excrement! Sitting on your butts sipping brandy and picking black heads! I had it tough as a child! I had to wake up at ten at night, half an hour before I went to bed, eat a lump of cold poison, pay money to work at the mill and then when I got home my dad would kill me and dance on my grave! And if that wasn't enough—

Hello. What a happy day. Happy happy happy happy happy. At least that was what the birds were singing. They chirped their sweet melodies to all who passed by. And on this particularly gorgeous morning, the Dark Lord Voldemort decided to take a stroll.

He walked along, humming a little tune. He passed many park benches, some occupied, some not. Whenever he passed by people, they had to turn away, for the sun's glare off his large bald head was blinding to the extent that small, purple, dancing Voldemorts were permanently ingrained in their minds.

Voldemort happened to not notice his effect on people as he walked, then skipped, then jumped, and then started walking again. His mind was full of plans to finally destroy his arch nemesis, The Guy in the Hot Dog Suit. If you were thinking Harry Potter, you were wrong. WRONG I SAY! WRONG WRONG WRONG! INCORRECT, FAULTY, FALSE! NOT RIGHT! NO STAY AWAY FROM MY CHILDREN—

Ahhhhhhh. That's nice.

Sorry. Back to the amazingly fascinating story.

Voldemort did happen to have the Boy Who Lived in his mind. He hated that stupid nickname. He wanted to kill it. Permanently. He would make it the Boy Who Lived, For A Bit…Then Died! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!

Laughing evilly to himself, Voldemort didn't notice the black-suited men wearing sunglasses advance toward him from behind. Suddenly a sack was thrown over his head. The strong smell of burlap had a hard time penetrating Voldemort's slitted nostrils. When it did, Voldemort gagged and flailed blindly and helplessly.

When the sack was removed, Voldemort found himself in a small white, square room. He was seated in a wooden chair in front of a plain desk that was bare except for a single lamp shining down on it. The chair across from him swiveled around and one of the men in sunglasses glared at him.

"You have been chosen at random to take part in a government program."

Voldemort stared at him with his mouth gaping open.

This government program was televised live under the title: Government Test: How Not To Be Seen. Bellatrix Lestrange was watching the broadcast with her relatives Rodolphus and Rabastan, and they were amazed to recognize some fellow co-workers.

"In this documentary, we shall attempt to teach you how not to be seen," began the announcer. "Here we have a seemingly empty field. Somewhere however, Professor Severus Snape is hiding. Professor Snape, will you please stand up?"

Snape rose from a pile of long grass. Suddenly a shotgun blasted, and he collapsed to the ground.

"This demonstrates the value of not being seen.

"In this next shot of an equally concealing field, student Draco Malfoy cannot be seen. Mr. Malfoy, will you please stand up?" Draco stood up from behind a log, wearing nothing but a pink G-string.

"Oh god! Oh god! Someone kill it! Kill it now! It's horrible, terrible! My eyes! They're burning! Oh agony!"

"You know you like it, Mr. Announcer." Draco licked his lips seductively before getting shot.

In the background, the announcer felt like he was dying inside.

"I'm not getting paid enough to witness something like that!" He began to cry. "I'm scarred forever. Forever! Oh, we're on. Crap!"

He cleared his throat.

"This is Hermione Granger. She cannot be seen. Miss Granger, will you please stand up?"

Pause.

"Miss Granger has learned the value of not being seen, not to stand up. Unfortunately for her, she has chosen an obvious piece of cover."

The bush in the middle of a field exploded. A scream echoed out for a moment, then silenced.

"Finally, we have Lord Voldemort. We do not know which of the three bushes he is behind. However, we will soon find out."

The bush on the far right exploded. Then the bush on the far left exploded. Finally, the bush in the middle blew up and Voldemort screamed.

"Yes, it was the middle one. Thank you for watching ladies and gentlemen. Join us next time for—"

Bellatrix turned off the T.V. and stared in disbelief at her companions.

"Is, is, um…he dead?" Bellatrix asked.

"Who?" asked her husband, Rodolphus.

"You know, master."

They stared at her.

She stared at them.

They stared at her.

She stared at them.

They stared at her.

"LORD VOLDEMORT, YOU IDIOTS!"

"Oh. I don't know," said Rabastan.

"It did seem as if he blew up, didn't it?" said Rodolphus. Suddenly his nose crinkled. "Do you guys smell something weird?"

Bellatrix and Rabastan started sniffing around.

"Yeah," Bellatrix answered. "Smells kind of like burnt AHHHH!"

"Burnt ahhhh? I have never heard of that….oh! Lord Voldemort!"

Rabastan smiled up at his master who had just entered the room, smoking a bit. He was not only smoking a cigarette, but his very skin was smoking. It gave off a very unpleasant odor.

"Didn't you just explode?" asked Rodolphus.

"Yes. I died. But then I came back to life."

"Uh…huh...That's very nice boss. Here, let's just go to the meeting already." Bellatrix led Voldemort out the door and up the stairs.

Voldemort continued in vain to convince his partners of his experience with rebirth. They all simply nodded and said, "Yes, boss, we believe you," as if he were insane.

_Oh well,_ he thought. _I'll just smite them sometime later._


	2. I Don't Have A Title for Ch 1!

_A/N: And now for a short pause that has absolutely nothing to do with what we have deemed to be the pathetic excuse for the plot of this fic…_

**Disclaimer:** We do not own anything from the _Twilight Zone, Harry Potter, Dragonlance, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_ (the good Gene Wilder version, not the creepy Johnny Depp one), or that Furby in a Microwave video on the internet.

Intermission 1…And So It Begins…(Twilight Zone music)

"He-he!" Voldemort giggled. "I love making snow angels!"

Voldemort jumped into a pile of snow and started shivering. "Cold…" he muttered, "…cold…bloody cold… I like froggies! Mmmm…pineapples and doughnuts. Look! I can dig like a puppy dog!"

Voldemort was suddenly on a beach and digging in the sand.

Suddenly Dumbledore came onto shore wearing a Speedo and carrying a surfboard.

"Gnarly waves yo! Oh hey Voldy! Here, fetch boy!"

Dumbledore pulled a tennis ball out of a place I don't think anyone would like to go (save McGonagall). He threw it down the beach and Voldemort bounded after it on all fours like a beast.

Suddenly Hagrid appeared, holding a baby Harry upside down from one leg.

"Tis a feisty one!" he exclaimed as baby Harry snarled and tried to bite something.

Dumbledore gave him thumbs up.

"Radical man!"

"Look what Raistlin did to me!" A random elf wearing black robes appeared randomly, ripping his robes open to reveal his heavily built chest with five bleeding holes burned into his skin.

There was silence. The crickets began to feast on monkeys. The elf named Dalamar turned into a sock and died.

"Oompa loompa doompity doo…something something something…" Voldemort suddenly began to sing in a high off-pitch voice that reminded people of nails grating on chalkboard mixed with grape juice.

"Speaking of grape juice, let's grate some cheese!" Voldemort continued. "Mmmm…organized crime. I want to be a flower! Mmmm…unexplained bacon…."

Three hours later…

"I wonder what would happen if you put a Furby in a microwave…" Voldemort took his Furby, Delolah and flipped it over, causing it to wake.

"Hmmm," it sighed.

He shoved it in a microwave and turned it to full power as the thing continued talking as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"Cocka-doodle doo-bleeeeeeeechhhhhhhhkkkkkkkkkkkk fizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz POP crrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaacakkkkkkkkkkk…" (Insert other interesting blow up and start on fire noises here.)


	3. What's Wrong With Me?

_A/N: BLARG_

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing from _Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Final Fantasy X, _or _Monty Python's Flying Circus. _

Chapter 2

Voldemort glared at his cohorts as the wind picked up.

"Why did we decide to have a meeting on the tallest building in the city?!" Lucius complained as the wind ruined his beautiful blond hair. "Now I'll never win that beauty pageant. God, Legolas is gonna trample over me!" he muttered.

The other Death Eaters looked back and forth at each other across the circle. Voldemort approached a podium in the center.

"We have gathered here to solve an imminent problem. Barty, bring forth the ring."

Barty looked up from his chair. He tried to hide the fact that he had been licking the ring. Voldemort coughed and Barty stood. He went to the podium and removed the ring from his finger. He set it down on the podium and everyone gasped.

"Where's the ring?" Voldemort demanded. "This is only a plastic ring! Where's the rest of the ring? Why do I keep repeating the word 'ring'?"

"Um, well you see sir; the ring was a Ring Pop, strawberry flavored. I couldn't resist…"

"Enough! I should fry you—Oh look, a butterfly!" Voldemort had all of a sudden spotted a monarch butterfly fluttering near the edge of the skyscraper.

"Sir—no!" cried the Death Eaters, but Voldemort would not heed. He jumped at the helpless creature and plummeted off the side of the building.

Voldemort wondered much in the few seconds it took for him to drop onto the sidewalk.

_Hmmm,_ he thought. _Maybe I should see a doctor._

When Voldemort awoke he found himself incredibly alone. He stood and winced at a sharp pain in his cranium that then receded into nothingness. He was standing in an old, abandoned, dirty alley somewhere in the city. He was a little confused. He remembered needing a doctor and then…nothing.

He shrugged. Oh well. What did it matter anyways?

Funny that he didn't care. He's got everything he ever wanted. Fame, glory, fortune, power, fame, money, fame. EVERYTHING! And what have I got? Nothing! I sit here day after day writing about his pathetic existence, wishing I could just fly out the window and never come back! That will be the end of me! I shall become the mime I've dreamed of since I was a child and wished I could escape the confines of reality and hide in a box of my own creation! This mind shouldn't be used for such meaningless work! I should be out on the streets entertaining people, not shut up in this godforsaken hole of an office! Oh those drugs won't work again! HAHAHAHAHAHA! I've found immunity to them! Huh? Come back to your place? Oh yeah sure.

Voldemort was ambling along the sidewalk, wondering at his sudden invincibility.

Suddenly, he came up behind two people deep in discussion. One was a beautiful woman with mouse brown hair and a figure that men could choke and die over. The other was an extremely hot man with blonde hair that streaked out in many directions, wearing strange yet attractive clothing.

"Yuna…" the man began.

Yuna looked up at him.

"I have something to confess." He sighed and glanced at his feet. "I don't know how to tell you this but, I'm…not real."

Yuna stared at him stupidly.

"What do you mean, Tidus?" she asked innocently.

"Well, you see I was an image, a dream really, created by these dead people. They, uh, are gonna cut me off soon."

Yuna stared at him more.

"What?" she asked sweetly.

The man gazed back at her, frustration building.

"God what's the matter with you? Don't you get it? I'm not freaking real! I don't exist! I'm a hologram, I'm a dream, and I'm not flesh and blood!" He was practically hysterical now.

Yuna still looked at him blankly.

"How can you not understand? See now, look, I'm so angry that I'm disappearing. Look what you made me do!" Indeed, Tidus' body was starting to turn transparent.

"Yuna, I love you okay, but before I go, tell me you understand."

Yuna's face softened.

"I'm sorry, what?" she repeated.

Tidus yanked at his aerodynamic hair in fury and finally vanished completely.

Yuna stopped walking, rooted to the spot where Tidus had once stood. She studied the surrounding area in confusion, and then straightened, raising a fist in the air.

"Don't worry, my love, I will shed some of this modest clothing for something hotter, and I will never stop in my quest to find you in spheres across the world!"

At this declaration, she sped away, spurred on by something that halted Voldemort in his place.

Unfortunately, while Voldemort was trying to comprehend the conversation he had just heard, 16 tons of iron fell on his head.


	4. I Should Have A Title For It!

_A/N: This chapter has some spoilers from the second Eragon book, Eldest, so unless you already know what happens or don't care, it is recommended that you skip ahead or at least don't read the last few lines._

**Disclaimer:** We don't own anything from _Harry Potter, The Numa Numa Song, Final Fantasy X, The Simpsons, The Lord of the Rings, Dragonlance, Pirates of the Caribbean, _or _Eragon._

Intermission 2, Or Should I Say Hiatus Or Interim? They All Mean The Same Thing.

Voldemort was hopping on a pogo stick in the park, his head bouncing like a basketball on his neck. He was so intent upon this that he didn't notice a boy going on a rampage.

He was quite a sexy boy with blond hair and a nice sword that was chopping people in half. While killing everyone, he was singing:

Mi-a-hii

Mi-a-huu

Mi-a-haa

Mi-a-ha ha

During the process, giant green frogs began leaping out of carbohydrated clothes' jars and attacking people.

"This pen is royal blue!" Voldemort screeched, doing somersaults and cartwheels sporadically.

"I have a pineapple on my head!" screamed Wakka from Final Fantasy X, stepping out from behind a cactus shaped like Marge Simpson.

"And I have boobs!" Lulu exclaimed, shaking a dead rat in her hand.

"Uh, Lu?" Rikku questioned, appearing from a stapler. "That's not a doll in your hand."

"Yes it is!" Lulu shrieked in reply, her red eyes widening. "Doll doll doll!"

"Okay, okay," said Rikku, backing off.

"I'm part tree!" said Maester Seymour Guado, materializing out of a stuffed raccoon head.

"Son!" Treebeard said warmly.

"Daddy!" Seymour ran into Treebeard's tree-ish arms and they hugged until the sexy boy killed them.

All of a sudden, the sexy boy paused as a black robed Elf appeared beside him.

"Look at what Raistlin did to me!" he yelled. The boy ignored him as Dalamar, his eye twitching, turned into a walnut and was made into soup.

"How can I be Morzan's son?!" the boy named Eragon yelled. "If I was Morzan's son, I would be killing everyone!"

Turning around, he noticed the massive carnage left in his wake. He shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

"Whoops, my bad. Man down."


	5. Maybe It Should Be Called

_A/N: And so begins our finest running gag…you'll know it when you see it…_

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing from _Harry Potter_ or Monty _Python's Flying Circus._

Chapter 3

When Voldemort next came to consciousness, he was still walking along the lethal sidewalk. He continually peered above him to ensure that his previous misfortune would not occur again.

And like a cartoon, poor Dark Lord Voldemort, concentrating upwards, fell downwards through an open manhole.

Voldemort stood up in the sewer, retching and gagging at the stench and the literal crap he was standing in. He coughed some more and attempted to block out the smell by holding his nose. Sadly, Voldemort was reminded that he didn't have a normal nose. The slits that were his nose seemed to absorb the stink more than a humans' nose would, and before he knew it, so many brain cells had been destroyed so rapidly that Lord Voldemort had become a twit.

He wandered the sewers, grinning an awkward grin that exposed his teeth and puffed up his cheeks so he had a likeness to a chipmunk.

When he came to a ladder, he smiled at it and walked forward, slamming his body into the rungs.

"Owee!" he exclaimed, backing up with contorted legs.

He cocked his head and eyed it suspiciously, almost as if it would come alive. When it didn't, he tried walking into it again.

"Owee!" he exclaimed again, smiling. He shook a long finger at it accusingly and tried again.

"Owee!"

Needless to say, this went on for some time. Only when a voice wafted down from above did Voldemort pause in his routine. He stared up at the hole where a figure obscured the light. In its hand, the figure swung a small chained watch back and forth, back and forth, back…and…forth…….and……..back……………..and……………………forth zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Huh? Oh I fell asleep, sorry. Honestly you can't blame me. It's not like this is actually interesting. Well, if you read this far maybe it is, or maybe you are just mentally screwed up, like Voldemort currently. You never know…sorry to everyone who may have taken offense to that last comment! (Not like I really care) ((Actually I do)) (((Just kidding))) Oh, I better start writing again or my boss will force me to enter the 100 meter breast stroke for non-swimmers! I refuse to be one of those helpless corpses they fish out later, while enjoying the stupid marathons! Never I say! Never! I won't succumb! Okay writing now…

Before dear Voldemort knew it, he was trailing the man with the wrist watch, never taking his eyes off the hypnotic item. They rounded a corner into a dirty little shop in a dirty little alley. The man guided Voldemort into his strange store of strange things and made Voldemort sit in a chair.

"Let's see if this thing can really work," the man muttered, grinning evilly to himself.

Voldemort sat unblinking, his gaze clouded.

"You are…a bubble," the man said to Voldemort's face. "A bubble." He laughed to himself. He did like bubbles.

Voldemort's vision cleared and suddenly he was conscious of his own mind again. Except of course, that his mind had become the mind of a helpless, deranged bubble.

He stood, and bounded out of the shop, "floating" all the way. The man watched him in satisfaction and began to eat some ice cream.

Out on the street, Voldemort jumped and skipped on the sidewalk and in the road, causing numerous accidents. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to get any altitude. What kind of bubble was he if he couldn't fly into the air?

Suddenly, his mind picked up a bubble floating into the sky. He watched it momentarily, and then leaped to its source. What he found stunned him. A whole place dedicated to bubbles! What Voldemort had found was a carwash, titled yes, Bubbles.

Amazing.

Within the next few minutes, Voldemort took about five carwashes and was evading all capture attempts by employees. It was then that he found a hose, and smart as he was, he put it in his mouth.

The employees watched in horror as gallons of water pumped into his body and then shielded their eyes as the inevitable happened. Voldemort blew up.


	6. Mayonnaise! I Like Mayonnaise

_A/N: Yeah, about this intermission…just…don't ask…_

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing from _Harry Potter, Tarzan, Dragonlance,_ or _Chronicles of Narnia._

Intermission thinger-dinger-ringer-singer-flinger…sandals?

Voldemort was trotting to the park on a whale. He passed many people, some real and some imaginary. He particularly liked Tarzan.

"Look what Raistlin did to me!" said Dalamar, appearing in a bathing suit. Then he mutilated into a chipmunk and began to stuff things in his mouth.

Suddenly, Voldemort saw something that would make him stare for two seconds and then walk away. It was Remus Lupin, posing naked for a calendar.

Voldemort screamed and then ran into naked Snape and Lucius Malfoy. He fainted while screeching "RUN AWAY LIKE CANTALOUPE AND ANTELOPES! NOT THE REMUS PORN!"

All of a sudden, he stood, feeling his brain jumble around in his huge, empty, jugular head.

"We all become fruit eventually," he mumbled to himself as he resumed his stroll.

As he rounded a bend, he came to two people. One was Cedric Diggory, and the other was Professor Digory Kirk from the Chronicles of Narnia.

"You!" Voldemort exclaimed, pointing at Cedric. "You're the spare!"

"And you have no hair." Cedric countered.

"Because I used Nair…"

"Am I a bear?"

"No, you're a hare."

"But what will I wear?"

"I don't care."

"Do you ever scare?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Would you like a chair?"

"Am I in your lair?"

"Can I have a pear?"

"No, I don't share."

"But aren't you square?"

"Watch out for that stair!"

"Oh I shall swear!"

"Let's go the fair."

"But I need an heir!"

"To say a prayer?"

"To eat the air!"

"What?!" Cedric cried, confused to oblivion and not even sure if it was his turn or not. He watched as Voldemort began to sizzle and then melt into a puddle that was immediately splashed in by a centaur.

Suddenly, Digory Kirk spoke.

"Hey, if we got married, I'd be Digory Diggory!"


	7. But I Also Like Marshmallows

**Disclaimer: **We don't own anything from _Harry Potter, Monty Python's Flying Circus_, or a_ Lord of the Rings_ parody.

Chapter 4

When Voldemort was again reborn, he opened his eyes to find himself lying in a field of flowers.

"Aww Christ!" he cried, obviously back to his normal self. The reason for his exclamation was simply that he recognized the flowers. They happened to be lupins, a type of flower he was overly familiar with, having had his Uncle Muffin stuff countless numbers of them in his nose and throat when he was merely a boy.

"I don't care if I ever see another lupin as long as I live!" Voldemort shouted angrily.

Remus Lupin ran away crying. Voldemort stared after him in puzzlement, and then shrugged.

He rose shakily and decided to get out of sight of these lupins as fast as possible. He picked up his heels and full out ran.

About two seconds later, Voldemort was reminded about why he never exercised. He stopped, his hands on his knees, wheezing painfully.

"Can't…get…e…nough…ox…y…gen…through…my…nose…" he gasped before keeling over.

Voldemort woke sometime later in a hospital bed. It was reassuring knowing that, for once in his life, he hadn't died. He had simply fainted.

A chubby nurse approached him, her ghoulish face towering over him. Her lips parted in a hideous grin, and Voldemort cringed. All of a sudden, he saw a glint of silver. He screamed.

Moments later, a dazed and profusely bleeding Voldemort stumbled into the hospital manager's office. Dolores Umbridge gazed at him as he slumped into an armchair in front of her desk.

"What appears to be the trouble?" she asked in her annoying little girl's voice that makes everyone want to impale her with a screwdriver.

Voldemort clutched his hands to the bleeding wound in his gut and looked up at her.

"I've just been stabbed by your nurse!" he exclaimed.

Umbridge nodded.

"She is quite an unpredictable sort. Well, you appear to be bleeding rather badly. Here, fill these out and we can get to your treatment."

She pushed a stack of paperwork toward him.

Voldemort stared incredulously at her. She smiled sweetly and handed him a pen. He slouched over and began filling out the forms.

"Hmm," Umbridge commented, making polite conversation. "You don't appear to be in too much of a hurry. You wouldn't mind if I took a quick coffee break would you?"

Voldemort didn't answer. He had collapsed onto her desk.

"Oh dear. I need a janitor. How rude for someone to dribble all over the carpet like that."

When Voldemort awoke, he found himself in a dumpster. He looked around and spotted something useful.

"Hey look! An invisibility cloak! I shall put it on and dance!"

And so, he did just that. The End.

Oh how I wish I could end this pathetic story! Then I could at last complete the intense routine of the fish-slapping dance! I spent my whole life miming that inspirational scene, collecting nice dead cold fish especially for it. But no, I have to sit in this crummy office writing about crap that I don't care about.

I'm calm really. I-I don't need those drugs…No! I don't want to kiss your finger! Nooooooooooo! So what if I have been drinking, that's not the point! Don't tell me to hold, you morgul rat! I AM PERFECTLY CALM! AHHH NOOO oh okayyyy…blarg…

In the midst of Voldemort's deformed Macarena, he didn't happen to notice that he had wandered into the middle of the road.

The last thought in his head was:

"Oh darn, not again!"


	8. Marshmallows Make S'mores

**Disclaimer: **We don't own anything from _Harry Potter, Dragonlance, Lord of the Rings_, a _Harry Potter_ humor fic that I found on here but can't remember what it was called or who wrote it (sorry!), the latest _Peter Pan _movie, or _Bob the Builder._ Yes, you read that right.

Intermission some number…maybe 10983857893789279287

"You mean I have to work with _him?!_" Voldemort snorted, eyeing the wizard with disdain. He was participating in a very important cook off and he didn't want anyone to ruin his chances of victory. The wizard was an old man with bushy eyebrows and a graying beard. He wore mouse-grey robes and a tall, lumpy, pointed hat.

Voldemort sighed in annoyance.

"So, what's your name?" he asked impatiently.

The wizard cocked his head and regarded him strangely.

"Hmm? What'd you say? Fireball?"

Before Voldemort could react, the wizard had spoken words and sent a fireball into the kitchen, singeing off some of Voldemort's head. Voldemort's eyes bugged out, walked away and began to munch on leaves.

"You little-" he began, but suddenly Gandalf appeared beside him. In the next instant, they were both laughing. And laughing. Still laughing. It was a strange chortle, as if forced. It was quite irritating to listen to.

"Halloween!" Voldemort gasped, laughing so hard his eyes had to take out umbrellas.

"I know…" Gandalf wheezed. "And here I was, thinking I was Dumbledore and was walking in the air and getting pelted with hobos. But then the groundhogs…Huh. This beard is trying to kill me."

Indeed, Gandalf's long white beard had twisted around his neck.

Suddenly, he was replaced by Dalamar.

"Look what Raistlin did to me!" he exclaimed, ripping open his robes. Voldemort stopped laughing and eyed Dalamar's wounds with his feet.

"I'm Foos ball. Or Flubber. Or maybe I'm Farfignoogen," the old man began to mutter abstractly.

"Fizban!" Dalamar shouted before vanishing in a puff of fairy dust saying, "I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!"

"Fizban?" Voldemort asked incredulously.

"What, Fireball?"

He sent out another fireball that made the kitchen burst into flames, charbroiling Voldemort's special cheesecake.

"GRAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGG!" Voldemort roared before getting run over by Bob the Builder.

"What, Fireball?"


	9. Chocolate Melts and Is Yummy

**Disclaimer: **We own nothing from _Harry Potter_ or _Star Wars._

Chapter 5

Voldemort was convinced that he would lead a normal life today and NOT die and get reborn again. He would not act out of the ordinary, so, although he wanted badly to check everything to ensure its safety, he forced himself to have an outward appearance of calmness.

_Ok, Voldemort,_ he thought to himself. _You are going to the convenience store to buy milk, bread and potato chips. Nothing will happen that will kill you. You must remain cool and collected._

He didn't even flinch as he paced down the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding a million death traps set for him.

He rounded a bend and came to the store. He calmly picked out the groceries from the shelves and approached the counter to pay.

It was then that fate played a cruel trick.

The glass in the door was suddenly shattered by a big line of glowing light that made whooshing sounds. A moment later its owner burst through the door, followed closely by its combatant.

The first person was young man with longish brown hair and a scar down the right side of his face. The other man was older, with a beard and mustache. They both wielded blue light sabers that destroyed anything upon impact.

The two continued to duel in the background as Voldemort pulled out money from his pocket. A shelf fell behind him, but he serenely started counting his change. Flour exploded into the air, dusting Voldemort's head.

The shopkeeper barely noticed the damage to his store. He idly watched Voldemort as he sorted through his money.

"Nice weather we're having, eh?" he asked the Dark Lord.

Voldemort looked up and smiled.

"Indeed," he replied. "I was even of thinking of going to play golf today."

More glass from the freezers shattered, shooting glass fragments everywhere.

"Really? I didn't know you were a golfer."

A bag of bird seed flew past the shopkeeper's head and burst open, spilling the counter with seeds. Voldemort lost track of some change and dug through the mess to recover it.

"Well, I'm not really. I actually have never played golf in my life. More of a Muggle sport I guess."

"Ah," replied the shopkeeper, although he wasn't quite certain what the word "Muggle" meant.

"You know, I usually spend my time testing out my spells on people. Gets a little annoying when they all just keep dying and you have to keep finding more."

The shopkeeper grunted, eyeing his customer warily.

In the back of the store, the two competitors were shouting at each other.

"I have the high ground, Anakin. Do not try it!"

"You underestimate my power, Obi-Wan!"

"Hey!"

This time it was the shopkeeper who was yelling. Obi-Wan and Anakin paused to look at him.

"Will you two take this outside? I'm trying to have a decent conversation here!"

"Terribly sorry," Obi-Wan replied. He stepped down from a fallen shelf he had been standing on and began to walk toward the door.

"You can't walk away like that!" Anakin hollered. He came up behind Obi-Wan and attempted to slash his legs, but instead cut off one of Voldemort's legs.

Voldemort glanced up at Anakin, who was staring at him. He then looked down at his severed leg on the floor, and then at the stub he had left that was spewing blood.

Anakin muttered a quick apology and ran out the door. Their fighting sounds resumed in the street.

The shopkeeper was speechless. He gawked back and forth from Voldemort's bloody stub to his face that was incredibly passive. Voldemort extended his hand, four bills and some odd cents stacked neatly on his palm. The shopkeeper stared at it for a moment, and then gently took the money.

As soon as his hand touched Voldemort's, Voldemort's arm fell off onto the counter. Fresh blood spurted from his former armpit and narrowly missed the shopkeeper's face.

The shopkeeper's eyes widened and he ran from behind the counter into the back room and did not come out.

Voldemort gave half a shrug and gathered his groceries in his good arm and managed to hobble out of the store.

Once outside, he sighed, feeling the bleeding decrease a bit. People gaped at him as he hopped awkwardly down the sidewalk.

Suddenly, a hula hoop loomed in front of him. Before he could react, he tripped on it and died.


	10. It's The Reason We're So Crazy, Really

**Disclaimer: **We own nothing from Final Fantasy X, Harry Potter, Star Wars, or Dragonlance.

Another Intermission…Men In Duck Suits I Like…Especially Seymour

Voldemort was very happy. He was doing his favorite thing in the world; riding his pet dolphin, Cow, in the desert. It was a bit difficult, but Voldemort was used to it by now. He waved and smiled cheerfully at camels as he passed by, uttering the general greeting,

"Dictionary!"

Unfortunately, Cow suddenly evaporated. Voldemort was confounded. He sat in the sand, pondering his dolphin's sudden disappearance.

He absently pulled a fork out of his pocket. Chewbacca appeared at his side and lit it with a smoke extinguisher, and Voldemort began to smoke it.

"Aghhhh!" said Chewbacca.

"Really?" Voldemort asked, and then nodded. "Well, I did see a millipede in my bathroom this morning."

All of a sudden, footprints appeared in the sand. Voldemort frowned and then shrugged. He began to follow them as they led him and Chewbacca out of the desert and into a yard full of gourds.

It was there that Voldemort found an earthworm and spent four years staring at it even though it had eaten his toe.

"Look what Raistlin did to me!" Voldemort didn't even look up at Dalamar who was chewing on a tire. Dalamar grew frustrated and multiplied into a grapefruit.

By that time, dear Chewbacca had unfortunately been turned into an extremely comfortable cushion that was now being sat upon by diet water.


	11. Or At Least Why One Of Us Is Crazy

**Disclaimer: **We own nothing from _Harry Potter, Dragonlance, Yu-Gi-Oh!, The Wizard of Oz,_ or _The Demented Cartoon Movie._

Chapter 6

Voldemort ran down the sidewalk. He had wasted far too much time dying and being reborn, and now was very late to meet his cohorts at another meeting. Of course, this time the meeting was to take place at a safe location. No more skyscrapers for me, he thought.

When he arrived at Bellatrix's apartment, he paused outside the door, hearing a great ruckus from within.

Voldemort peered through the key hole and regarded a muscled male dancing quite provocatively without a shirt.

_This is my kind of party_, he mused.

Shoving open the door, he strode inside and stopped dead in his tracks. No, Voldemort didn't notice the banner reading "Sayonara Voldy-poo!", or even all the Death Eaters who had suddenly paused in their celebrating.

What he did happen to notice was the dancer who had halted and was now facing him, watching him with unfocused eyes and rubbing his chest muscles absently.

"Cara…Cara…" Voldemort huffed, feeling what was left of his heart drip to the floor and collect in a puddle.

"Caramon! How could you do this to me! I loved you!"

The male stripper glanced at him and cocked his head, a confused expression on his face. The music that had been blaring silenced eerily, leaving the place quiet.

"Did you just say you want to pummel my brother with a hammer?" His face hardened and suddenly he lunged, attempting to smash Voldemort into the floor.

However, his feet stumbled on Voldemort's metaphorical puddle, and instead of flattening Voldemort, he squished Lucius Malfoy, an innocent bystander in this case.

All of a sudden a ragged coughing echoed throughout the room, like a cat hacking up a hairball.

"Raist?" Caramon's head popped up and his bleary eyes scanned the room, finally alighting upon a thin red-robed mage standing near the fireplace.

"I'm coming, Raistlin!" Caramon called to his brother.

With amazing agility for a large drunk man, Caramon rose, leaving behind a twisted and twitching Lucius imprinted into the floor. Caramon then groggily sprinted to his brother, who was holding up his hand in a feeble protest.

"No, Caramon. NO! STOP! I'M FINE, YOU DOLT!"

Unfortunately, Caramon was too drunk to realize what his brother was saying. Instead, Caramon came up behind him and whacked him hard on the back. This normally would have been an effort to save a victim from choking on a radish, but in this case, Caramon smacked his brother so hard, Raistlin coughed up something that no one had expected.

"So_ that's_ what was in there…" Raistlin muttered, stared aghast at a golden, triangular necklace with a long chain attached to it.

"What…is…that?"

Suddenly a light flashed, blinding everyone in the room. When the little spots were gone from their vision, there stood many figures around the strange object.

Two looked exactly the same, wearing blue pants and a blue jacket. They also both had very spiky yellow and purple hair and were fairly short. Another was a tall gangly teenager, with a very odd blond hairdo. Another male teenager stood among the group, with jutting brown hair and an extremely constipated expression on his face. There were two females in this strange group, one with very tall heels and short brown hair, and the other in a revealing purple jacket and skirt with long blond hair.

They all regarded one another, and then stared at the audience they had attracted.

"Yugi," piped up the brown haired girl, "I don't think we're in Battle City anymore."

"Uh…isn't that line from the Wizard of Oz?" the blond male teen spoke.

"I'm a'gonna break you!"

The entire group turned to stare at the blond female who stood defiantly, then randomly combusted.

"Hmm," the one named Yugi murmured.

"Is there a bathroom somewhere?" This time it was the brown haired male who spoke.

"Tristan, will you just shut up? We have to find out Yami's name!" the brown haired girl named Tea shouted.

"Yes, I wish I knew it," Yami answered, the taller of the two look-a-likes.

"You'd think that being five thousand years old, you would know your name," the blond teen named Joey commented. Yami shrugged.

Suddenly, Yugi spoke out.

"If we believe in the heart of the zeeky boogy doogs, we cannot fail!" Then a moment later, realizing what he said, he added:

"Oh crap."

A bomb with a smiley face fell from the ceiling and exploded in the midst of the group. After the smoke cleared, they were gone. And, of course, Voldemort had randomly been standing too close and was caught in the blast.


	12. The Other's Just High

**Disclaimer:** We do not own anything from _Yu-Gi-Oh!, Harry Potter, Care Bears, Monty Python's The Meaning Of Life, The Simpsons, The Ultimate Showdown,_ or _Dragonlance._

Cattle Intermission With Hot Valen And Rafi And Is Long And Fluffy

Voldemort had angered the Grammar God of Goldfish by sticking feathers onto its prized pickles. His punishment for this dreadful crime was being tied to a tree and having a Care Bear rip out his innards every few hours. Ah, what a pleasant scene to visualize, isn't it?

While Voldemort was pondering whether or not all philosophers had the letter "S" in their name, a chubby boy with yellow skin wearing red pants and a blue shirt crossed over the rainbow and approached him.

Voldemort could hear him moaning softly as he came near and stopped to star up at him.

"I just ate a battery. Now my tummy is hurty," he informed Voldemort. Voldemort, who was in a bit of pain, could only nod.

The boy, known as Ralph Wiggam, moaned again.

"I think my tummy leaked." Ralph then looked Voldemort up, down and diagonally.

"Hey mister, I think your feet are backwards," Ralph smiled. "It's okay, I'm screwed up too. Miss Hoover said I'll get used to it."

Voldemort was on the verge of passing out, but upon the last comment, he had to see if he was indeed "screwed up." Sure enough, his feet had been twisted around as a result of stuffing a bucket-full 'o pelicans, three potaters and Satan into his armpit.

"Are you happy?" Ralph suddenly questioned, eyeing his hand as if he had just seen it for the first time.

"No…not really…" Voldemort gasped.

Ralph then began to spin and flap his arms.

"I'm a tornado!" he exclaimed. All of a sudden, he stopped and stared at Voldemort. "Do you like bowels? They rhyme with towels!"

"I…don't…think I…have any left…" Voldemort groaned before passing out.

Ralph didn't notice.

"My doctor says I wouldn't have so many nosebleeds if I kept my finger out of there. I'm a choo choo. Choochy choochy choo. My cat's breath smells like cat food. Mommy says scabs are nature's bandages. Chicken legs are scary. They won't let me touch money anymore. I saw my daddy shoot a civilian. My army man tastes like plastic. I ate a thumbtack and paste. I just made an uh-oh."

Ralph finally realized that Voldemort was no longer listening to him. His eyes widened dangerously as a small voice came into his head.

He smiled manically as he said, "A leprechaun told me to burn things!" He then lit the tree on fire and was carried off by Mr. Rogers in a bloodstained sweater.

"Look what Raistlin did to me!"

Dalamar paused, realizing that no one was listening. Shrugging, he began to cut his fingernails.


	13. On LIFE! Exclamation Point!

_A/N: The kinda cool thing is that part of this chapter isn't even making fun of anything. Raven got Tas's character down perfectly!_

**Disclaimer: **We don't own anything from _Harry Potter, Dragonlance_, a _Dragonlance _parody on this site that we forgot the title and author to again (sorry again!), _The Last Unicorn, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, _and _Blazing Saddles._

Chapter 7

Voldemort was happy that he was reborn at the party.

He decided to go celebrate his living streak with a glass of ale. Sauntering over to the bar, he ordered a round and sat on a stool, leaning on the counter.

Suddenly, a hand gripped his shoulder. The hand's owner sat next to him with a grunt.

"Heyyyy man," he drawled. Voldemort eyed him out of the corner of his eyes, realizing that this man wasn't actually a man. His face appeared like a humans', but his eyes had a slight almond shape, and his ears, visible through his red hair, were pointed. It was obvious that he was also exceedingly drunk, not only because of his glassed eyes but because of his body that swayed precariously on the barstool.

"Okay," he continued, oblivious of Voldemort's scrutiny. "So there are these two girls, right? They're both GORGEOUS, you know."

His hand accidentally bumped into his beer glass, splashing some of its contents onto the counter and floor. Unfazed, he went on with his story.

He didn't notice that Voldemort was trying to sidle away from him, but was finding it to be incredibly difficult after the stranger kept grabbing him and hugging him close. In fact, he was so close that he could smell the ale on the stranger's breath. He coughed and immediately silenced himself when Caramon's head popped up above the crowd.

"So, who are you?" he asked the stranger politely to hide himself.

"Me? Oh I'm Tanthalafasawabiblarg."

Voldemort stared at him dumbly.

"What?"

"Oh you can call me Tanis. All me friends do. Oh wait…I don't have any friends…no one loves me. And yet I love them! Okay picture two girls. One is a sexy warrior who's not afraid of anything. She's got a mind of her own and a crooked smile that claws at your heart, man! She's also got a head of curly black hair…" Tanis suddenly began drooling for no apparent reason.

"And the other," he continued, "Is a hot elf woman with long tresses of gold and a figure to die for! Problem is her brother hates me…probably because I beat him up when I was 60."

"When you were…60?"

"Oh yeah, I'm a half-elf. Yah…I'm only about 100 right now. Hey, what are you? Are you like a snake-man?"

Voldemort blushed in shame at his odd nose.

"No, actually I'm a dark lord."

"Really? That's cool! Hey wait! I have an idea!"

That idea happened to be skydiving. In order to get Voldemort to accompany him, Tanis got him extremely drunk, especially over his stories of Kitiara and Laurana, the two women he couldn't choose between. The result was that Voldemort passed out, and Tanis hauled him onto the plane.

Voldemort was next unfortunate to wake in the air, moments before they would parachute to the ground.

He groggily opened his eyes, and regretted it, for the light pained his already aching head. He rose slowly, feeling queasy. It didn't help that he glanced out the window and regarded the ground thousands of feet below him.

"WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON!"

"Oh you're awake! I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."

Tanis approached Voldemort and extended a hand to introduce the small creature standing next to him.

"This is Tasslehoff Burrfoot," he said.

"Nice to meet you," Tas replied, holding out a hand. Voldemort studied him with a confused expression, regarding his ponytail of long hair that flowed from a tie on the top of his head. He shook hands awkwardly.

"And what are you?" Voldemort asked.

"Oh I'm a kinder," Tas answered swiftly. "Have you not heard of kender? Well I better enlighten you!"

Tas then embarked on a long story of the history of kender.

Voldemort quickly grew bored and stared out the window disdainfully. He still didn't know why he was in a plane, but he had to admit, the view was nice. While he was glancing at the rolling hills, he was unaware of deft hands removing the straps to his parachute.

All of a sudden, there was silence, in which Tas smiled gleefully. Voldemort looked up from his vantage point as wind whipped around the small plane. The door was standing wide open and Tas was staring at the ground in excitement.

"Look how far up we are! I wonder what it would be like to splat on the ground? That would feel strange I bet, falling through the air and maybe going through clouds! Oh I wonder what it would be like to go through a cloud? Is it like going through a rainstorm? Or maybe even a snow storm! Hey, I was in a blizzard once. Tanis, you remember that blizzard where I had the flute? I totally saved you and Sturm! And Flint was there too, and I thought he would bash my head in--"

"Alright, Tas. Calm down or we won't even get a chance to jump out!" Tanis advised. Tas immediately quieted.

"Who's going first?" he asked a second later.

"Why, I think our guest should. Go ahead…what's your name again? Dark Lord something or other."

"Voldemort," Voldemort replied shortly. He was a bit nervous standing at the edge, staring at the heaving ground thousands of feet below…

"You're a Dark Lord?" Tas questioned excitedly. "You look a little pale for Dark Lord. Here, let me help you."

Tas politely shoved Voldemort on the back, sending him sprawling out of the plane and into the air. Tanis and Tas watched him fall, a single dot in the sky.

"He should've deployed his parachute by now," Tanis wondered vaguely, a few minutes later.

"A parachute? Oh I have one of those!" Tas suddenly reached into a pouch hung at his side. His small fingers emerged with a coiled piece of fabric and strings.

"Where did you get that?" Tanis demanded, fearing the worst.

"Oh, that Voldemort guy had it on his back, but it wasn't secured very well. I had to remove it to show him it wasn't safe."

"TAS!"

"What? Oh— That isn't good. I thought Dark Lords knew how to fly."

"No you're thinking of a kyrie, hence their wings and flying ability. Dark Lords just, sort of, plummet."

And for the second time in his life, Voldemort found himself falling through the air and inevitably going to hit the ground. This time was different, however. He was falling from a lot higher up, and, due to this, his brain exploded in midair. He was lucky in that moment not to remember anything of his previous life. He had a very short amount of time to come to terms with this strange "new" life. This is what he thought as he fell:

_Ahhhhh! What's happening? Who am I? What's my purpose in life? What do I mean by "Who am I?" Well this is a nice sensation in my…I guess I should start finding names for things now…let's call it my…stomach! Yes that's it! Does that sound good? Why am I asking you? Hey what's this roaring noise going past what I'm suddenly going to call my head? Let's call it…wind! Yeah that's it, wind! Wow, this is really amazing. Hey, what's that huge thing coming at me very fast? It kind of needs a big sounding name…ow…ound, round…ground! Yes, that's it, ground! I wonder if it will be friends with me. Hello ground!"_

**SPLAT**


	14. Despite That She Doesn't Have A Life

Mulan, Intermissions and Sailboats

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing from _Mulan, Harry Potter,_ the song _Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire, _something, _Aladdin, Dragonlance_, the _I'm Too Sexy_ song, _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Bambi, Pocahontas,_ or smurfs.

Mulan, Intermissions, and Sailboats

Voldemort wanted a squishy ball, so he went to Las Vegas on Fat Guy Airlines, which was indeed an inflated flying man. Voldemort was puzzled as to why he was flying an incredibly fat man, but since he only worked for chipmunks roasting on an open fire, he couldn't complain on the cheap fare.

"Hokay, please keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, and know that the exits are here, here, here, here, here, here, here, EVERYWHERE!" (yay Aladdin!) said the pilot (aka the fat guy Boubassa).

Voldemort gazed at him skeptically, wondering if the man would get him to Vegas on time.

Boubassa sighed, and then screamed, "PHENOMENAL POWERS….little bitty living space…."

Voldemort nodded slowly, and then frowned as they passed an elf wearing black wizard robes riding a flying shovel. He was balancing on it while slapping his butt, saying things like "Dally, you little dark elf you!" and "I'm so evil, I'm good!"

Voldemort immediately changed directions when Dalamar began to sing "I'm Too Sexy" and then whipped out his chest AGAIN. Voldemort issued a sweat drop and landed at a restaurant where he hoped he could rid his mind of both disturbing images.

While he was waiting for his Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, he noticed Bambi sitting beside him, drowning himself with 18 Sam Adams Beers.

Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He stared aghast at Pocahontas, who was covered in piercings and tattoos and painted blue and was a smurf.

"Uh…ex…uh…cuse…uh…me…uh…that's…uh…my…uh…seat…uh…" she said in a very deep male's voice.

Voldemort could only shake his head.


	15. Wow, That Makes Absolutely No Sense

_A/N: Wow, almost forgot this thing existed for a moment…can't imagine why…there's a huge wasp in my living room right now…_

**Disclaimer:** We don't own anything from Harry Potter, Dragonlance, Monty Python, Simpsons, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Chronicles of Narnia (the 1988 version), The Last Unicorn, or Titanic. Also we borrowed the rocket powered manatee from our friend Chris.

Chapter 8

Voldemort was eating Subway on a subway in a city that has no name because the writer doesn't care. He was very proud that he had customized his own sandwich. In fact, it was made of two slices of bread, a meatloaf pretzel topped with mayonnaise, chocolate chips and onions. Just as he was about to take a bite, a thing approached him and poked him in the eye.

"What the—" The thing saluted him and backed away slowly, seeing Voldemort glare at him from his one eye that wasn't watering oil.

"You seem to have sprung a leak, good sir."

Voldemort glared at him as his sandwich randomly transformed into a mini rocket powered manatee and flew away. The stranger bowed and introduced himself.

"I am Sturm Storm Brightblade Happyfairies. My friends call me Sturm."

"Uh…huh. Well, Mrs. Happyfairies—"

"--Mr." Sturm corrected.

"Excuse me. I have a cold."

Sturm regarded him with a puzzled expression that then turned to a thoughtful look.

"You know, that's the second time someone's mistaken me for a woman."

"Well maybe that's because your freaking four foot beard is freaking braided and has freaking pink bows in it!"

Sturm opened his mouth in shock.

"I beg your pardon! This beard is a moustache and it's not four feet long! I measured this morning and it's about four feet one hundredth of a centimeter for your information!"

"You know, that's bloody brilliant now that I'm randomly British even though I really am and yeah!"

How do you like this chapter eh? Kinda stupid, random and pointless…kind of like my life...This is what happens when you shove an alligator down the writer's pants! Are you happy now? Oh no, you will never be happy. Just sit there and wallow in self pity, why don't you? I bet you think I'm going insane! Well maybe then I'll just leave! You'd like that, wouldn't you? Well then, good bye happy little elves!

During Voldemort's British ranting, he suddenly paused. Sturm watched him as he placed a hand up to the back of his head and squeezed his eyes in sudden pain.

"Headache?"

"No, actually a dinosaur just teleported into my brain and is inventing the telephone."

"Really?" Sturm looked excited.

"No, of course not you dimwit!"

"Oh." Sturm was disappointed. Suddenly he perked up.

"I remember what I had to tell you!"

"You're a messenger?" Voldemort said through gritted teeth.

"Well duh. I mean, what do I look like?" Voldemort could have given many replies to that, such as Big Foot or an overgrown hedgehog, but his headache made him silent. He waved his hands vigorously, hoping Sturm would relay the message. When he didn't, Voldemort tugged on his moustache.

"Oy-vey! Oh right, the message. You were on that government program How Not to be Seen, right? Well apparently, the Ministry inserted computer chips in the brains of everyone involved so they could call them back for a reunion."

Voldemort felt the back of his head and was amazed to actually feel a square flab of skin. He dug his fingernails into it and yanked. The lump of flesh came off into his hand and he stared at it and smiled. The pain in his head was gone!

"Hey, I took that out without any brain dama-dama-dama-dama-dama-dama-dama-damage!"

An hour later, Voldemort and a few of his friends stole a Time Turner and went back in time to take over Hogwarts and unfortunately, due to a horrible miscalculation of size, were eaten by Mrs. Norris.

When Voldemort next woke up, he decided to go to take a recreational break at the circus (and he also had coupons). He of course was also hoping that he wouldn't die, but he knew that that was inevitable. At least I'll get to see some freaks before I die, he thought with a ghoulish grin.

He first stopped at an exhibit with a large lion. Apparently, the beast could speak. It opened its mouth and words issued out, telling Voldemort that its name was Aslan.

"So, what's so special about you?" he asked the lion, bored.

"Well, I can talk."

"You've already established that."

"I can roar!"

"Yeah, let's see it then."

Aslan then uttered a pitiful growl. Voldemort perked up.

"IS THAT IT?"

The lion blushed, if possible considering it was actually a very sad puppet. It was at this moment that Voldemort's anger drugs flared up. He had a tantrum.

"MY BUNNY SLIPPERS ARE SCARIER THAN THAT! WHY ON EARTH WOULD PEOPLE PAY TO SEE YOU? AT LEAST WITH MY BUNNY SLIPPERS, IT'S ALWAYS A PLEASANT RISK. YOU NEVER KNOW IF IT'S GOING TO BE REAL. ONCE I SHOVED MY FOOT INTO AN EVIL RABBIT WITH LONG POINTY TEETH. IT GOUGED MY EYES OUT…"

Voldemort continued raging about his bunny slippers, not realizing that he had taken a fatal amount of medication due to the fact that he had not given his doctor enough shrubberies in payment.

Voldemort's raging caused the lion considerable annoyance, and after a while it sat on him and of course he died.

When he next came to, Voldemort went to see Chompy, a chubby girl with the largest overbite in the entire world.

"Mr. Tumnus!" she exclaimed when she saw him.

"Um…I'm not—" Unfortunately, Chompy was part vampire and promptly bit his head off.

Voldemort was a little astonished when he didn't die, although he had indeed lost his head. He commanded his body to pick it up and then he started bowling with it. When this got boring, he decided to try and find a receipt and return it. Maybe he could get a replacement he thought, with a different nose…

He arrived at a head store because I made them exist.

"I would like a refund on this head."

"And, why sir?" asked the clerk.

"Because it is detached. It no longer is connected. It is isolated, separated and alone from the rest of my body."

"No it's not. It's just taking a temporary divorce."

"A temporary divorce? Well maybe I should try to reconnect it!" Using his arms, Voldemort shoved his head onto his neck repeatedly, showing that it wouldn't stick.

"It is removed, severed, and amputated. It is not properly functional. Look at this." Voldemort turned around and stared at his body.

"Okay arms, pick my nose." His arms reached up to where his head should have been and began miming picking his nose. What a sad waste of talent. Miming is incredible, and shouldn't be wasted on a massive hulk of a body! Honestly, if I wanted to be as talented as him, I should have just decapitated myself! I have more talent in my sixth left pinky! And I am NOT a mutant, even though I do mime with my imaginary friends…Hey Arty, silly monkey with a horn nailed to its head who's trying to be a unicorn! Oh, and there's Towanga, a crappily drawn cartoon griffon that makes no sense to my life! BURMA. Sorry. I panicked. Beware the chinchillas!

"No, it's not decapitated. It's just pining for a banana split, hence the split part."

"Pining for a banana split!...Does it have beets in it?

"I don't know, it could…I guess."

"Oh alright then." Voldemort walked out of the shop and suddenly, Towanga (you naughty girl!) swooped out of the sky and took Voldemort's head and then dropped it onto the Titanic. He was the one who screamed, "Look out for the ice burg!" before they hit it and began to sink. And since he was a bodiless head, he couldn't possibly hope to swim. He sank like a rock. And at the other end, Aslan and Chompy were having an eating contest over his body.


	16. But Neither Does This Story

_A/N:_ _Random change in styles. Beat up other authoress now. I don't mind, really. I just care about my nachos and dain bramage._

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing from Harry Potter, Pokémon, Dragonlance, the Simpsons, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, or Charlie the Unicorn.

Blarginess, Blargety, Blargness and Most Importantly, Blarg

**Voldemort:** (runs into Ash, Misty, Brock, Pikachu and Togepi.)

**Ash:** Hey guys, look! A giant snake-type Pokémon!

**Voldemort:** Wha?

**Ash:** Go, Pikachu!

**Pikachu:** Pikaaaaaaa!

**Misty:** Ash, wait!

**Ash:** But I gotta catch 'em all!

**Brock:** I'm blind!

**Ash, Misty and Voldemort:** …

**Dalamar: **Look what Raistlin did to me! (opens up robes to reveal chest…for the MILLIONTH TIME)

**Everyone except Dalamar: **… (Dalamar gets run over by Homer Simpson)

**Crysania:** What? (Stumbles along with her arms stretched in front of her)

**Brock: **(Looks over at Crysania) Hey, you're blind too!

**Crysania: **(tripping over everything)

**Brock: **Will you marry me so we can be blind together?

**Crysania: **Sorry, but I'm in love with a sickly twisted little man who tried to destroy the world and become a god.

**Brock: **I see…yeah right! Cinnamon Toast Crunch, the taste you can see!

**Crysania: **Umm… Hey, how can you see me if you're blind?

**Brock: **Hmm…Maybe I'm not blind but I'm just drawn with lines for eyes so I look blind!

**Ash: **That makes sense!

**Misty: **Yay, he's not blind!

**Pikachu: **Pika! (There was much rejoicing.)

**Crysania: **(leaves, stumbling over everything on the way out.)

**Voldemort: **(Ten foot sweat drop that's so big he falls onto Candy Mountain)

**Voldemort: **(Three hours later, waking up in the middle of a bird bath) Oh crap, they took off my Breasteses of Chompy!


	17. Which Is Why No One Reads It, Apparently

_A/N: I think this is our favorite chapter ever. EVUR!!_

**Disclaimer:** We don't own anything from **Harry Potter** and Harry Potter Parodies, Monty Python**, Chronicles of Narnia 1988, **Simpsons, Final Fantasy X **and Final Fantasy X Parodies, StarWars,** Winnie the Pooh, **Batman**, or any of the objects in the list.

Chapter 9

"None shall pass."

"What?" Voldemort asked, trying to get back into the circus after some interesting deaths. "But I have a free pass!" he insisted.

"I move for no fluffball."

"But I'm the Dark Lord Voldemort!"

"If you don't move, then I will be forced to smite you."

"I command you to stand aside!"

"You asked for it!" The strange man in black armor attacked with a large slice of bologna. Voldemort shrieked as it slapped him in the face. He retreated to behind a tree about twenty feet away from the gate. The black armored guard returned to his stoic position.

Voldemort knelt and removed a small round object from one of his nostrils (how it fit in there, no one will ever know). He slapped his hands together, said ouch, and then began to pray.

"Pies lesu domine. Dona eis requiem. Oh lord, bless this thy holy hand grenade, with it thou may blowst thy enemies into tiny bits, in thy mercy." Voldemort quickly removed the holy pin and counted.

"1, 2, 5!" The grenade exploded, killing him in the process.

Voldemort was lucky to be reborn inside the circus grounds. In order to get full compensation for his coupon, he decided to witness the last exhibit. It was the White Witch of the crap version of Chronicles of Narnia, made in 1988 (never…NEVER…see it! –has seizures—).

The witch wasn't very impressive. She had a pointy face with icicles coming out of her head. Apparently, that was her crown, since she considered herself the "Queen" of Narnia. All the man-animals (men dressed up in animal suits…yes, be VERY afraid) didn't particularly like her, for they believed in Aslan as their rightful king. Turned out that he's god. Kinda funny that they worship a puppet lion, eh? Why not just give birth to a Dorito? What is it with lions as the King of the jungle anyway? Why not mimes! Honestly, they are an incredible species with subhuman powers. No, they can't fly, but they can imitate people. See? Look how I am imitating this old woman with a purse-ow! She just smacked me with her handbag! No, not the pepper spray! Ahh, my eyes! It tastes like burning! Oh ouch-stop whacking me you crazy old lady! Oh crap-CAR! **Crash. **Oh, now my feet are inside me...

The White Witch opened her mouth to yell something at Voldemort, and he was astonished to see her mouth open wider than humanly possible. In fact, it was so huge, that many things began to fall out of it.

The list included: all seven Narnia books, a 42" Plasma screen TV, turnips, a flock of sheep, the Australian Quidditch Stadium, an XBOX 360, sherbet lemons, yesterday's lunch, a pair of Severus Snape's underpants, blue mascara, an itsy bitsy teeny weenie yellow polka dot bikini, the Staff of Magius, if you're still reading this, you are more insane than even me and that is saying something, Gilderoy Lockhart's entire collected works, a lifetime supply of pickles, James Potter and Sirius Black, Snorlax, an entire clan of gully dwarves, 8 out of 9 rings given to the race of men who above all else desired power (the ninth having been eaten by a purple people eater), Spam, a man attacking people with a banana, why are you still reading this, Patsy, a Hungarian Horntail, The New York Giants (Alex, Marty, Melman and Gloria of course), Dory and Nemo, a bunch of empty glass jars that used to have strawberry jam in them, the Eye of Sauron, a tire, monkeys, Anima, a canopy bed, a llama named Cuzco, a juice box, a Wookie, a ukulele, just stop reading already, the entire cast of Harry Potter Puppet Pals, the Volunteer Fire Department, man-beavers—

"Man-beavers?" remarked Remus Lupin, who randomly stepped out of a fire hydrant, "They look more like were-beavers to me."

"There-beavers!" James and Sirius exclaimed in unison. Remus' eyes bugged out of his head as he stared at his two dead best friends.

"Wha-" he managed to gasp before he passed out. When he awoke, his friends were still there, this time staring at him.

"Hey, you got old," James commented.

"Well, it helps that 15 freaking years has passed since you…died…" Remus passed out again. James and Sirius stared at each other with puzzled expressions.

Voldemort was even more confused. Raising a fist to the sky, he yelled, "Ok authors, it's bad enough that you have to kill me over fifteen times in 8 bloody (pun!) chapters, but why bring people I killed back from the dead? Why do you torment me so?"

"Now Voldy-poo," came a voice from the sky. "Here, take your medicine now. You need to calm down."

"But I don't want to take my medicine!" Voldemort whined.

"Do it anyway!" A large hand came out of the clouds and rammed some pills down Voldemort's throat.

"Hey, oh my gosh, did you see the White Witch? She was like AHHHH and all these things came out of her mouth! How am I supposed to hallucinate with all these swirling colors in my way? Hey, it's purple like Jesus over there in the corner!"

James and Sirius exchanged glances, Remus woke up and then passed out again and Aslan flew over to them and ate everything that came out of the Queen's mouth except for James, Sirius and the canopy bed. Aslan also managed to get Voldemort caught in his fangs, and Voldemort was carried away while screeching,

"The pyreflies made me real!"

James and Sirius watched with fascination, and then went to console Remus who had woken up again.

"Pass out, do not. Here, we are and dream this is not. Afraid do not be." Remus, who was feeling a bit wheezy after passing out many times unfortunately passed out again, this time while envisioning James as Yoda.

"Way to go!" Sirius yelled, and smacked James on the head.

"God daddy Sirry-kins!" Harry suddenly rounded the corner and spotted his godfather and his father wrestling in the mud. They both halted, and James smirked.

"Sirry-kins?"

Sirius blushed and muttered something incoherent about a pillow fight. They both stood and brushed themselves off with hamsters.

It was then that Harry noticed his father.

"Are…are…" he stammered. "Are you…wearing a Winnie the Pooh shirt?"

James looked down at himself.

"No. Actually it's Piglet."

"Oh…okay…Are you my mommy?"

James stared at his son incredulously.

"No! I'm your mother--"

"--Father." corrected Sirius.

"Father." James amended, and then looked rather uneasy.

"Uh, Father," Harry began. "You realize you have a toaster in your pants."

At this point, Remus awoke again, and seeing his best friend's pants begin smoking, he began to feel a bit woozier.

"I was wondering why it was getting so hot down there." James commented.

That did it. Remus promptly fainted.

Suddenly, Voldemort appeared wearing a Batman suit.

"Holy saltine crackers Batman!" he said, even though he was Batman.

Remus didn't even bother to wake up.

Then, James broke into song, singing the popular Backstreet Boys' song, _Everybody_.

Harry looked quizzically at Sirius.

"Is he always like this?"

Sirius, however, was unable to answer considering he had turned into a dog.

"Arf!" he barked enthusiastically.

Remus chose this moment to regain consciousness.

"Puppy!" he exclaimed giddily. He began to scratch Sirius on the ear, and Sirius began to purr, even though he was a dog.

Voldemort, at this time, began to shove crayons up his nose.

"One…twwooo…thhhreeee…." He cringed after each crayon disappeared from his nostril. Unfortunately, one of the crayons was jammed too far into an important part of his brain. The consequence was that he had a spasmodic seizure and exploded.

The three marauders and Harry stared at each other in stunned silence.

"Arf!"


	18. But We're Just CRAZY! CRAZY I TELLS YA!

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(In the White Witch's cryptic tongue, this meant "Hi.")


	19. And Now It's FINALLY Done

_A/N: The last chapter of this piece of crap is actually the first chapter we wrote for this story. Weird._

**Disclaimer:** We don't own anything from Harry Potter and Harry Potter Parodies 2 Dragonlance 6666 Monty Python 9068 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy 978 Mario 4623917198719861903698710897419087907.

Chapter 10

After nine chapters of pointless, embarrassing deaths, Voldemort was annoyed. He wanted to know the reason that the authors kept killing him in strange, twisted ways. The authors, however, refused to let him in on the secret of his many demises, and so Voldemort was left to ponder the maniacal minds of the authors.

Suddenly, a light bulb went on in the air above his head. He would have exclaimed "Eureka" except that he was now staring at the luminous bulb that simply floated above his shiny, bald head.

"What the-" he started when all of a sudden, the bulb's glow brightened and exploded. Yes, exploded. I really cannot explain the odd reason that the authors enjoy explosions so much, but hey, they're insane. You are probably wondering why I am writing in the third person when referring to myself. I again point out the sanity of my and the other author's mind.

Again Voldemort died, but when he awoke, he knew what he had to do. Maybe if he promised to reconcile and stop trying to kill his arch nemesis, Harry Potter, then his erratic deaths would stop. So, through a fruit bat named Ginger, he sent a letter to Harry, setting up a meeting in the center of the park within the hour. He received a fairly hasty reply and was happy to hear that Harry was coming, although he was going to be backed by the entire wizard world.

"Meh," Voldemort said. He had faced worse odds, and today he was confident that he would not try to kill him. Instead, he merely wanted to apologize.

On his way to the meeting place, Voldemort unfortunately underwent several deaths and rebirths, including falling into a volcano, getting mauled by a giant penguin and drowning in a fish tank.

When he finally arrived at his destination, Harry was already there. Seeing Voldemort, he quickly removed his finger from his nose and shoved it into his pocket. His green eyes darted nervously, eventually resting on his archenemy.

Suddenly, one of his eyes involuntarily blinked. Voldemort frowned, and then was shocked when one of his own eyes returned the wink.

After a few seconds, Harry's eye blinked again, and then Voldemort's eye replied in the same fashion.

Harry and Voldemort sorted through their differences as their eyes continued to converse in Morse code. The time dragged on. Hours passed, leaving both Harry and Voldemort irritable. They tried to regain control, but apparently their eyes had been employees together and had once dined at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.

After a day passed, both Harry and Voldemort gave up the struggle and resigned to anger. Voldemort especially, since he had been mistaken for a statue many times and in fact had a family of sparrows building a nest on his head. The parent sparrows made it their business to build a furry nest for their future younglings. In order to accomplish this, they had to collect furry things.

Besides straw and a bit of lint, the sparrow parents had managed so far to collect some of Snape's armpit hair from Ebay that smelled vaguely of strawberries and some toilet paper from an angry farmer who later claimed aliens took it and was admitted to a mental institution which he broke out of in the nude and ran down the street, took a plane to Bulgaria and yelled "I'm a jelly donut!" from the top of the leaning tower of Piza and was shot down and later remembered as a martyr of the Lard Movement. There was also a rabid ferret curled up on Voldemort's head, acting as the border for the nest. How it remained there only the sparrows knew. In their devious little heads, they had an entire calendar for when exactly to peck the ferret in order for it to remain unconscious.

It was within these last hours that Harry, regarding Voldemort's head in envy, was struck literally with an idea. A small rock known to float hit Harry's head with an idea rubber banded to it.

Harry opened it eagerly, ignoring his right eye that continued to "talk" to Voldemort's eye.

The note read: Icky Icky Icky Buh Danga Zoopy Knights that no longer say Ni point and laugh at you.

Harry's eyebrows drooped. Actually, only one did, so it looked like he was frowning intensely at the small piece of paper. It didn't help his appearance that his mouth was gaping open and a small pool of drool was collecting.

His mind was so preoccupied with the intensity of the note, that he didn't realize two flies had become trapped in his saliva and were slowly learning the breast stroke.

Voldemort watched the flies for a bit, then whipped out his Gameboy and began to play Mario and Luigi.

"Darn you Luigi!" he exclaimed suddenly as the little green man popped up on the screen and began dancing on Mario's corpse shouting "I'm the winner, I'm the winner!"

Harry broke out of his trance as Luigi's victory song reached his ears.

"I'm the weiner? Whaa?" At that moment, Harry inhaled so much that the flies had amazingly flown to the back of his throat and were hanging on for dear life.

Harry began to hack, hack, hack, cough, cough, hack, hack, choke, hack, hack, cough, gag, gag, choke, sing, dance, choke, choke, cough, cough, hack, gag, hack, and vomit.

Voldemort looked up from the game and began to laugh and giggle at Harry's inconvenience. Unfortunately, his sudden movement caused the rabid ferret to wake and cheerfully nibble a bit of skin off his head.

Voldemort screamed in pain and began to foam at the mouth. He bared his teeth and began to bark hysterically at nothing. Harry almost stopped dying to watch this charade, but the flies were desperate.

Voldemort's pupils dilated freakishly, leaving Harry's eye insulted, for Voldemort's eye's last comment had been cut off. Instead of saying what he intended, Voldemort's eye had managed to call Harry's eye a donkey bottom biter, causing Harry's eye to tear in sadness.

The entire color of Voldemort's eyes disappeared and was consumed by blackness. It was then that Voldemort, oblivious of his surroundings, shook off the sparrow's nest and ferret and immediately began to skip around a nearby tree, periodically barking at a squirrel who was too stunned to search for nuts. The ferret, in the meantime, turned into a snarling Draco Malfoy who was suddenly struck dead by 600 pitchforks lying on the ground.

Nobody seemed to notice Harry, who was having a bit of an issue breathing. His face had turned a beautiful shade of turquoise that passerbys admired. But of course, no one stopped to help the Boy Who Lived who was now dying.

Meanwhile, Voldemort, who was still giddily prancing around the tree, was fortunate to understand the effects of global warming. It began to rain, and with the rain came a thunderstorm of terrible caliber. The thunderstorm produced tons of lightning, and even though Voldemort's tree was not the tallest in the park, it was struck because of his Gameboy. An electric shock ran over Voldemort's skin, and when he opened his mouth, smoke came out.

"Now my boogers are spicy!" he moaned before collapsing, dead, to the ground.

And the wizard world rejoiced, still ignoring Harry who was taking a long time to die. The wizards and witches then began to feast on lamb, potatoes, broccoli, hamburgers, orangutans, breakfast cereals and a myriad of other foods that I will thankfully not describe.

During their feasting, no one noticed Voldemort rising back up from the ground and going over to Harry. With his right hand, he whacked Harry on the back, sending the flies out of his mouth so fast that they circled the globe three times.

With gratitude, Harry accepted Voldemort's offered hand.

"You know, I really am sorry for trying to kill you so many times. I did get to understand what it was like to die. Not really very pleasant. I think I'll stop trying to kill you now. Friends?"

Harry looked thoughtful. He did like these stimulating conversations.

"Friends!" he said finally, shaking Voldemort's hand. They linked arms and together, skipped off into the sunset.

And as they skipped, the authors needed to add one more thing.

Voldemort exploded.


End file.
